Pause
by thisnullvoidlife
Summary: After three long years of sleeping around and partying non-stop, Matthew decides it's time to settle down and return to his roots. However, some things can never return to normal. PruCan and CubaxCanada. Rated M for drug usage and sexual content in later chapters.
1. New Beginning

"It's been so long." Matthew muttered as he gazed at his hometown's welcome sign. A small hopeful smile crossed his face as he began walking further into the small town.

It was a Saturday afternoon. After deciding his life had gotten too out of control, the Canadian had decided it was time to return to his roots. Now, he was here, walking down the streets he hadn't seen since he was eighteen. He held onto the straps of his backpack, hiking it up and continuing his surefooted walk to his childhood home.

Communication between Matthew and his dad had been pretty shaky. They loved each other, sure, but with Matthew's crazy life, Francis could hardly ever get a hold of the small blond. Matthew's heart fluttered with the image of his father opening the door and smiling at the sight of his son. He imagined he'd be ushered inside while his father chattered on about how much he missed the boy.

Finally, he reached the street he grew up on. He walked up to his house and straightened his clothes before ringing the bell and waiting (a little impatiently) for the door to open.

After a few minutes, it did, and Matthew felt a burst of excitement before it fizzled out completely.

"M-Mr. Kirkland?" the blond stuttered, looking at his former English teacher. The short brit looked back, raising an eyebrow.

"Matthew, is that you? Come in, come in. It's been such a long time." the British man opened the outer door, allowing the Canadian in and leading him into the living room. "Francis, come here! Someone's come to visit!" the man called.

Matthew looked around the now unfamiliar house. Pictures of Arthur Kirkland and Francis adorned the walls, various poses of a typical happy couple. This was not normal. A handsome French man came into the room, shifting through some papers.

"Oui, mon amour? Who is- mon dieu! Mon petit Mathieu, it has been far too long!" Matthew felt a bit of relief seeing his father and hugged the man tightly as he set the papers down.

"Oh, papa, I'm sorry I've been gone for so long. I was hoping you'd let me stay here for a little while? I want to really get my life started." the French man pulled back and smiled at his child.

"Of course, Matthew. Your room was the only thing we left untouched in our redecorating phase." Francis said, looking at Arthur. Matthew looked between the two.

It had only been three years, yet so much had changed just in his own home. Matthew tried sorting through the few conversations he'd had with his father. When did he start dating Arthur? Last he knew, the Brit hated him.

Matthew looked up at his father with a small smile.

"Is it alright if I go take a nap? I walked here from a few towns over." Francis nodded.

"Go ahead, mon fils. I'm so glad you're home."

The small Canadian grabbed his bag and walked through the house slowly, admiring all the differences. It did look like a nice family home now. As he climbed the staircase, he noticed that even the pictures ascending the flight had changed. They were still as old as the ones of Matthew's childhood, but there were pictures of only Francis and Matthew, instead of the family photos including his mother. He also noticed pictures of Arthur and a boy as well. Did Arthur have a child?

The blond shook his head and continued up to his room, bracing himself before entering. Nostalgia wrapped around him instantly as he saw his old hockey gear still in a pile in the corner. Pictures of old friends were pinned all over the walls. A Canadian flag was draped above his bed. Matthew walked in and dropped his bag by the door, walking around and examining the pictures.

It was like looking into another person's life. These memories had been shoved into the deepest parts of Matthew's mind the day he left. Why had he ever wanted to give any of this up?

His hand lingered over a blurry picture of an albino teen. In the picture, the boy was reaching for the camera, humor in his bright red eyes. Matthew remembered taking this. Gilbert had been his first boyfriend. They dated for half of Junior year and lasted all the way til the day Matthew left. They had been so comfortable with each other, the Canadian had no doubt they would still be together if he never left.

He sighed and went back to his bag, taking out his phone and charger. Plugging the device in, he looked into the mirror over his dresser and remembered his desire to take a shower. He went to the dresser and looked through the clothes. He'd lost so much weight, these were all about two sizes too big. Still, he picked out a sweatshirt that had been big on him in high school and a pair of black basketball shorts.

Matthew walked out and down the hall to the bathroom, making sure there were towels in the cupboard before he turned on the water. He'd made that mistake far too many times as a kid. Tossing his old clothes into the hamper, he got into the warm shower.

He felt so optimistic. As if this one shower was washing away all of his sins. He felt like once he stepped out, he would be a changed man. However, Matthew knew that wasn't how change worked. It would take him a little while and a lot of mental strength to get started. He was ready to accept this challenge, though.

He got out after a few minutes and dried off, relishing the feeling of fresh towels instead of the rough motel towels he was used to. He put on the clothes he had brought and inhaled the faded smell of detergent. Matthew looked in the mirror and brushed out his wavy hair, leaving it unstyled. He looked so old yet so young at the same time. A few good night's rest would really help him. A nap would help right now, too, he thought.

He walked back to his room, but stopped at a door just before his. It was covered in signs saying "keep out", "do not enter", and "knock first". Matthew thought back to the boy in the pictures with Arthur. Did he live here? That would mean that Arthur lived here. How close were he and his father? The blond sighed and walked back into his room, crawling into his bed. It only took a few moments of gazing around his room to fall asleep.

* * *

Matthew groaned as his phone buzzed. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, sitting up. The phone persistently buzzed on his nightstand. The blond grabbed it, pulling it off the charge and holding it up to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Mattie, baby, where are youuu? You totally dipped out with this hottie last night and I, like, lost you!" the blond winced at the energetic voice of his best friend. "P.S. you totally sound dead. Do you, like, need me to pick you up?"

"No, Feliks, I'm fine. You just woke me up from a nap."

"Okay, cool, cool, so like, where are you then? Because I totally got us a way to get into that rocking club we've been dying to go to, and-"

"Actually, I'm home. I'm gonna be home for awhile."

"What?! Oh no, did something, like, happen to your dad?" Matthew smiled at the concern in his friend's voice.

"No, everyone's fine. I just.. Feliks, I think I'm going to get serious about my life. I can't party through the rest of it." the other man was quiet for a bit, then laughed softly.

"Well, like, welcome back Matthew. Good luck. Maybe I'll like drop by sometime. For now, Tori and I are totally gonna hit up that club!" the Canadian chuckled.

"Have fun, Feliks. Tell Toris to have a good night!"

"Totally!" the blond hung up and set his phone down next to him. He had been asleep for a little over an hour. It was now almost three in the afternoon. Matthew stood and stretched before taking another look at all his photos. So many of them featured Gilbert. A slight thump in his heart made him yearn for the German albino. Part of him wanted to go look the man up and see where he was now.

"No.." the blond mumbled, shaking his head lightly. "I need to focus on becoming something." he'd spent the last three years in one night stands and blurry drunken nights. It'd be better if he forgot about dating all together right now.

A light knock pulled him from his thoughts.

"Come on in." Matthew answered. The door opened, revealing Arthur. The Brit smiled at Matthew.

"Do you mind if we have a chat?" Matthew nodded and sat on the edge of his bed, gesturing to his desk chair for Arthur. The shorter man sat in the chair, facing the Canadian. "I know it must be a little disorienting, coming home and finding everything turned around.." he started. Matthew laughed lightly.

"Yeah, just a little. Last I knew, you were totally against my father." Arthur smiled softly.

"I was never totally against him. We all have people that push our buttons. Some do them in ways that we don't understand until it's too late to catch ourselves." the blond looked at his former teacher.

"Do you regret it?" the Brit shook his head.

"No. Francis makes me and Peter very happy. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that even though the house may not look like yours, it is. And you're obviously welcome to stay as long as it takes to get you started." Matthew smiled and looked down in his lap.

"Thanks, ." Arthur stood.

"Please, call me Arthur. Now, come. I've made tea." he gestured out the door and Matthew walked in front of him, heading downstairs and into the living room.

Francis looked up from a book and smiled at his son.

"Mon petit Mathieu, how was your nap?"

"It was nice, papa, thank you. I'm glad to be home." the Canadian sat next to his father, who pulled him into a side hug and kissed his head.

"Me too, mon fils. So, have you decided how you're going to start this new journey?" the blond thought for a few seconds.

"Obviously, a job. Maybe I could take a few classes at the community college? It's not too late to register, right?" the French man shook his head.

"Non. I can take you to the Academics office on Monday over lunch." Arthur walked into the room then, carrying a tray of cookies and tea.

"What are you thinking of pursuing, Matthew?" the Brit asked, pouring a cup for each of the men.

"Y'know, I think I want to start a business." Matthew said confidently. "A coffee shop sounds nice." Arthur made an impressed sound as he handed the two men their respective drinks.

"Oh, now that would be lovely. Perfect for a small town like this." said the Brit, sitting on the loveseat opposite of the other two.

"Oui, I think it would be nice to have a different place to hang out and grade papers in." Matthew smiled at the thought of settling down in his hometown again.

"It would be nice to settle down here.. But, I'll take it one day at a time. Tomorrow, I'll go see if anyone is hiring around town, then Monday I'll get registered for classes." Francis smiled proudly at his son.

"It's so good to have you back, Matthew. I thought you had changed forever once you left." Arthur nodded off to the side.

"Where have your adventures led you?" Matthew blushed and rubbed his neck,nervously laughing.

"Ahaha.. I'm actually not too sure. It was a rough few years. I've been everywhere and nowhere all at once." the French man watched him silently as the Brit raised an eyebrow.

"Really now? Didn't you leave with that Polish boy? What was his name.. Feliks?" the blond nodded lightly.

"Yeah, we've stuck together. He met a nice man named Toris, actually. They were meant for each other, but I don't think anyone can ever fully tame Feliks." Arthur nodded and sipped his tea. Matthew felt his father's eyes boring into his skin. He knew he would have to divulge his history to him later.

The sound of the front door opening and closing made everyone look up as a blond teen walked into the room. The boy stopped and looked at everyone.

"Who're you, then?" the teen asked, pointing at Matthew.

"Oi, Peter, don't be so bloody rude." Arthur snapped. Matthew smiled.

"It's alright. I'm Matthew, Francis's son. You must be Peter." the Canadian said, getting up to shake the boy's hand. The teen looked at his hand, then up at him.

"Yeah, what of it?" Matthew tensed a little and put his hand down.

"Nothing.." a hand grasped Matthew's shoulder and Francis smiled down at Peter.

"Mon fils will be staying with us for awhile. That's alright with you, oui?" Peter smiled at the taller man.

"Yeah, sure thing, papa. It'll be cool to have someone else around the house while you and dad are busy." Matthew felt a twinge of jealousy. Why was this boy calling his dad "papa"? That was Matthew's name for Francis!

"I'm glad you think so too! Did you have any plans for tonight?"

"Actually, I was gonna go stay with Im Yong Soo and Li Xiao, if that's okay?" Francis nodded and looked back at Arthur.

"Mon amour?" the Brit sighed.

"Alright. Be nice to Mr. Wang, though, lord knows he's got enough trouble makers on his hands as it is." Peter rolled his eyes before smiling at Francis and running upstairs.

"Thanks, papa!" Matthew looked up at Francis, who shrugged.

"He'll warm up to you, mon fils."

"Ruddy brat only warms up to those that spoil him." pouted the British man, picking up a newspaper. The Canadian felt a little comfort knowing he wasn't the only one jealous of the relationship between Peter and Francis.


	2. Old Faces

The rest of the evening passed with little to note. Francis made a lovely dinner to welcome Matthew, and now, feeling pretty stuffed, the blond was up in his room again, flipping through a yearbook from his Freshman year. He wondered how many of his classmates had decided to stick around the small town. He would probably find a few old friends as he went around town tomorrow. Part of him was a little nervous. In a small town like this, Matthew could only imagine the rumors that had spread about him. He had left out of the blue after declaring that he was tired of being nobody. The same day, he told Gil he was leaving and that it'd be best if the albino forgot about him. The week after that, Matthew's phone was flooded will calls and texts from Gilbert and his father. Gil even tried calling Feliks. The Polish boy would always tell Gilbert that Mattie was too busy or he didn't want to talk. Matthew went on ignoring both him and his father completely until the German stopped trying to contact him all together.

Matthew sighed and closed the book, dragging his fingers over the raised pattern. He wondered if Gilbert hated him, if there was any way to make up for his foolish actions. It wasn't like the blond necessarily wanted to get back together with him, he just wanted to make up for how much of a jerk he had been.

Someone knocked on his door, making Matthew look up.

"Yes?" Francis poked his head in.

"Do you mind if we chat?" nervousness made its home in the blond's throat. He nodded and set the book aside, pulling his feet up to make room for his father. The French man closed the door behind him and sat at the foot of his son's bed, crossing his hands on his leg. They were silent for a few moments.

"Papa, I-" Matthew started.

"Shh.." Francis shook his head and smiled softly at the blond. " _You've been gone for a long time_." he said in French. Matthew looked away quietly. " _We've talked how many times_?" he asked.

" _Not enough_.." whispered the man.

" _I was worried sick about you, Matthew_." Francis said, a bit of anger sticking into the words.

" _I know, papa, I'm sorry, I just_ -" the taller man held up his hand.

" _I don't want to hear apologies right now_. _I want to know what you did while you were gone_." Matthew swallowed and hid his face in his knees, cheeks burning with shame.

" _Papa, I don't_ -"

" _Matthew, tell me what happened_!" Francis said harshly, causing the smaller to flinch slightly. The French man looked at him and sighed, rubbing his face. " _I don't mean to yell_. _I'm sorry_."

" _No, papa, it's my fault_.. _I_.. _I spent my time doing a lot of drinking_. _I met a ton of new people, but I can't tell you any of their names because I don't remember them_. _The only person who stuck around for more than one night was Feliks_." Francis looked at the blond quietly and moved to sit next to him, pulling him into a hug. Matthew buried himself into his father's arms, hugging back.

" _Were you safe_?" he muttered.

" _I tried to be_.. _I've kept up to date with all my tests_.." Francis nodded, rubbing his son's back.

" _Your past doesn't mean anything_. _Your history means nothing_. _You are my son and you always will be, okay_? _Even if you wanted to continue that part of your life, I wouldn't be upset as long as you kept yourself safe_." Matthew struggled to keep his sentimental tears back as his body began to shake. He didn't regret his activities. He regretted the way he left. He regretted the weeks that went by without contacting his father. Francis rubbed his back slowly. " _I want you to know that everyone was worried when you left_. _You said you were tired of feeling like a nobody, but so many people missed you_. _Gilbert called everyday to see if you had called home_." Matthew sighed and pulled back, rubbing his eyes. A few tears slipped past his defenses, but he made sure Francis wouldn't see.

" _I know_.. _I don't want to think about him right now_." the taller man nodded.

"I'm sorry," he started in English. "You know, he's still in town, if you want to-" the blond shook his head.

"I don't, papa. Not right now. I have so much to do before I start thinking about hooking up with someone." Francis nodded in understanding. The two leaned back against the headboard in silence for a few short moments. ".. How long have you been dating Mr.- Arthur?" Matthew asked, correcting himself at the last moment. His father smiled.

"About two years. Can I confess something to you?" the blond smiled and looked at him.

"Of course."

"I'm going to propose." Matthew sat up excitedly, nearly shouting.

"What? That's crazy! I'm so happy for you." Francis laughed and waved his hand.

"Shh, shh. You're the only one who knows, mon fils." Matthew covered his mouth.

"This is so amazing. I'm so glad you're happy, papa." he nodded and took his son's hand.

"Me too, mon fils. Arthur and Peter are what we've been missing, you know? Ever since your mother left, we've had this void in our family, and they fit it so perfectly. I really think you and Peter will get along well after a couple weeks." Matthew nodded and squeezed Francis's hand.

"I'm sure we will papa. I'm so happy." the French man stood and kissed his head.

"Me too. Bonne nuit, mon fils. Je t'aime." Matthew smiled softly, standing to close the door behind his father.

"Bonne nuit, papa. I love you too." with that, he got changed into some pajama bottoms and crawled into bed.

It had been such an eventful day. Matthew wondered how everything would turn out. It would be weird to have a new brother and another dad, but he definitely wasn't opposed to it. Arthur already seemed so comfortable here, and it was obvious that Peter loved Francis too. The only thing the Canadian worried about was if he could fit into the new life his father had made without him.

* * *

The next morning, Matthew woke up with a feeling of pure optimism. He had slept a solid ten hours, the most sleep he had had in weeks. His pillow smelled of home. He burrowed deeper into the covers and inhaled, engraving the feeling of warmth and safety into his mind. It felt so right. He relaxed and spent a few more minutes being grateful for his bed before he slowly got out of bed and picked out a simple, presentable outfit to wear. Nothing flashy, but also something that looked like Matthew was ready to do any sort of work that was thrown at him. The blond man made his way downstairs and into the kitchen, where Arthur was. The British man looked up as he pulled a pan out of the oven, setting it on top of the stove.

"Good morning, Matthew. How are you today?" the blond smiled lightly.

"I'm feeling very nice, thanks. Where's my father?" Arthur waved a gloved hand dismissively, transferring pastries onto a cooling rack.

"That old frog sleeps in on the weekends. Typically until noon." it felt weird, not knowing such a miniscule fact of his own dad's lifestyle routine. "If you'd like to join me for breakfast, I won't mind. I'll just brew some tea and the scones will be cooled." Matthew nodded and sat at the table as Arthur filled a tea pot. Matthew wasn't that much of a tea drinker, but it seemed only polite to accept every time the man offered. As he waited, he drummed his fingers on the tabletop, trying to think of all the places that were here when he was.

"Have there been many changes about town?" he asked. The Brit shrugged.

"No, not really. There's the consignment store, the pharmacy, the gas station, the market, that quaint boutique. There's also a restaurant. It's always switching owners and names, though. Frankly, I don't remember if it's open or not." the Canadian nodded. "Not many options, but I imagine you can make them work." they shared a smile and the tea kettle whistled. "Ah, perfect. A drink and a scone, and you'll be ready to start your new adventure." Arthur got a small cup of tea for him and himself, setting them both on the table before he got two side plates and put scones on them, setting them next to the respective cups. "Oh, dear, you aren't allergic to anything are you?" Matthew smiled and shook his head.

"The typical pollen allergy, but I think scones are okay." the Brit nodded.

"Good, good." the two were quiet out of courtesy as they ate their small brunch. Arthur had a small stack of papers next to him, which he started grading as he ate. Alternatively, the Canadian pulled yesterday's paper over to him, flipping through it absentmindedly. As Matthew finished his food, a tired Francis walked into the kitchen. He patted the blond's shoulder and grabbed a scone, walking over and kissing his boyfriend's cheek.

"Good morning, mon cher, Matthew.." he grabbed himself a cup of tea and sat at an open chair.

"Good morning, dear. Did you use the sink in our bathroom yet?" the French man shook his head lightly.

"Non, is there a problem?" a dismissive shrug.

"The hot water spout is just a little loose again is all."

"Mm. I'll tighten it up before the end of the day, I'm sure."

"Alright. Also, Peter has that trip or whatever tomorrow and he wanted you to make his lunch." Arthur mentioned, picking up the paper he was reading.

"Oui, I remember." the Brit nodded, deep in thought.

"Okay, just making sure." Matthew observed the small talk silently. An outsider looking in on a foreign world. It reminded him of the first time he'd gone to a club. So many side conversations that acted as windows into different worlds. The blond had his fun by skipping from group to group, trying to figure out how the people he met would meet in real life. An electrician bumping into the sorority girl as he was doing work on the wiring. A bartender serving drinks to the escort boy at the end of the bar, lost in a world of their own charming flirtations and body language. A chef catering a party that the weekend clown-for-hire attended as a date. It had been so interesting, such a contrast from how the world worked in a small town. The club was it's own small town. The pounding music only showing how people united when they found things they agreed on.

Then again, enough drinks and ecstasy will make anyone think the way Matthew did. It certainly wasn't new. The Canadian stood and put his plate and cup in the sink.

"I'm going to walk into town and start asking for some applications. I've got my phone, so just call and I'll answer." he said, heading out of the kitchen. Francis nodded and Arthur watched him leave.

"Good luck!" he called. Matthew smiled back.

"Thanks, Arthur. I'll see you guys later." he said, walking out the door. He inhaled the fresh air deeply, relishing the smell of a clean town.

So often, cities were filled with a dense smog and foreign smells that tended to make Matthew queasy. When approaching a new city, Feliks often complained about the cloud of smog you could see enveloping the area. Still, the two loved the atmosphere of cities. Fast paced and up to date, everything just worked.

Matthew had only been walking for a few minutes before he felt his phone vibrating. Looking at the caller ID, he almost instinctively pressed "ignore" as he saw it was his father. He did the opposite, however.

"Uh, yeah?" he answered, confused. He heard Francis chuckle on the other end.

"I just wanted to make sure you were really going to answer." Matthew rolled his eyes, but a smile pulled at the corner of his lips.

"Oui, papa. I'm hanging up now."

"Oui, oui, sorry." the Canadian ended the call and pushed the device back into his pocket, walking around the corner and into the "business district" of the small town. It was really just a few short streets with a couple shops and stores on each block.

Half an hour passed and Matthew had collected two applications from middle aged people who called the blond "Francis's boy" or "the Bonnefoy kid". It wasn't all that surprising. Francis was a teacher, counselor, and coach. Many people in the town had children and obviously wanted to be acquainted with the man who would be with them through a little of junior high and on into high school. They had been eager to chat, as he had expected. Everyone knew of the rather unorthodox way Matthew left and were desperate to know not only why, but where he went and how he funded the trip. The blond assured them he had been fine and was now back to become a part of small town life. He agreed to have a get together sometime soon as a sort of "welcome home" party.

With his two applications, Matthew stepped into the consignment store. An old woman looked up from the counter.

"Well hello there. Aren't you Francis's boy?" the blond smiled.

"Yes, ma'am, I'm Matthew Williams." he approached the counter and stuck his hand out as a greeting. "It's very nice to meet you." the woman shook his hand, smiling back.

"The pleasure is mine, Matthew. I'm Chelle. Your father and I used to be close when he did counseling at the elementary school. What can I do for you?"

"I'm actually in the market for a job. You wouldn't happen to need any help, would you?" the woman nodded slowly.

"Well, since school is starting to really kick off, that would be nice. Are you going to be attending the community college?" Matthew made a "so-so" motion with his hand.

"Not full time, but I will take a couple classes." Chelle smiled.

"Perfect. Let me get an application for formality's sake, but I can tell you that you have the job already." she left to an adjoining room and Matthew stood at the counter, looking around the small store. As he stood there, he noticed another man walking around the back of the store. A flash of silver hair caught his eye and his heart leaped into his throat.

"No.." he muttered. He dove behind a clothing rack and peeked over it. Sure enough, the man turned around, revealing shockingly red eyes. His pale white skin fit right in under the fluorescent lights.

It was Gilbert.

Matthew had to get out.

Chelle came back out and the blond went back to the counter, keeping his head down.

"Here you go! Self explanatory. Bring it in when you're ready to start!"

"Yes, thank you so much, I really have to go though. Goodbye!"

"Oh, okay, h-" Matthew exited the store faster than he'd gone anywhere, not stopping until he turned back onto his own street.

His heart was pounding.

How could just catching a glimpse of Gilbert throw him into such a panic? Matthew leaned against a tree, catching his breath. He put his hand over his heart, willing it to stop freaking out as he tried to gather his thoughts.

He felt sick and guilty, though he couldn't understand why. Gilbert had matured so much. He looked like life had treated him well.

Maybe that's where the sick part came from. Matthew always thought it had been a big hit against Gil when he left, but it didn't seem like it did much damage. The guilty feeling took over as he reprimanded himself for wanting the German to suffer.

Matthew sighed and looked down at the applications he held. Working in town would mean that he would probably run into Gilbert more often than not. He would have to get over himself. The blond finished his walk home and shut himself in his room to take care of his paperwork.


	3. Crushing Reality

Monday came around, and Matthew stayed in his room until his father came to get him. He felt less motivated, but he knew he would still have to keep going to get started.

Matthew sat on the steps of his house, watching the road. He still couldn't understand what was wrong with him. He kept reliving the feeling of panic when he saw Gil. Now he felt embarrassed for overreacting. It would have been so easy to turn around and pretend like he never saw him. Instead, he had to make himself look like a freak in front of a potential employer.

"Ahh.. I'm such a mess." he groaned, holding his head. Matthew's father pulled up to the curb at that moment.

"Sorry I'm late! Let's go get you registered." he called. The blond smiled and stood, getting into the French man's car.

"It's fine, papa. I enjoyed the time outside." Francis smiled.

"Good, you could definitely use it. Did you get that application done for Chelle? She called and said she was very excited to get you working." Matthew nodded.

"Yes, it's on my desk. I was going to take it down to the store after her school day was done."

"Good, good. Then, we'll get this done, I'll drop you off at home, and we'll regroup at dinner tonight." Francis said, as if he was planning the winning play of a sport game. The Canadian laughed.

"Sounds like a plan, coach."

It ended up working out along that route. Registering at the community college was fairly quick and easy, and Matthew was ready to start his classes as soon as possible. Luckily, they were online, so he wouldn't have to worry about finding transportation. After his father dropped him back at home, he spent some waiting time figuring out the layout of the website. Once he got a handle on it, it was a little after four, so Matthew picked up his application and began the short walk to the small store. He got there right as Chelle was unlocking the door.

"Ah, Matthew! Just in time, come on in! I'll explain a couple of things and you'll be free to join our little team." the blond smiled and followed her in. The woman took a few minutes to get settled in, then began explaining the inner workings of the store. While here, Matthew would be in charge of the place before his coworker or Chelle made it in after their respective duties.

"Typically, people will leave donations out in the alley, but people haven't in awhile. They prefer to come in while we're open and get a little cash. Gil's normally the one that handles the donations and such." Matthew froze and looked at Chelle. She looked back. "What? Did I say something wrong?" he shook his head.

"No, uh, I.. Did you say Gil?" the woman smiled.

"Yes, Gilbert Beilschmidt. Lovely boy. He's a full time student at the college, though, so he doesn't get in until six or seven on most days. That's why he does donations. I normally just let him close up and sort things. He's that lone wolf character, y'know?" Matthew felt numb. He managed a small smile and a nod, though.

"Yeah, I know the type.. Uh, so, how about the cash register? I've never worked with one like this." the man switched the topic as soon as he could.

So Gil worked here. Of course he did. He wondered how the albino would react when they met again. He wondered how _he_ would react when he saw Gilbert again.

After a couple of hours in training and retraining, Matthew and Chelle began making small talk while watching the store.

"I never really wanted to be a business owner. Totally a dedicated elementary teacher." Chelle admitted. Matthew smiled.

"Oh really? How'd you come about owning this place, then?" the woman shrugged.

"My husband liked it. Loved meeting people, making friends. He passed a few years ago and I couldn't find it in my heart to sell the place." the blond nodded.

"I understand. My mother liked gardening, but when she left, my father started doing it too."

"Yes.. It's interesting how we adopt the hobbies of our loved ones. You know, my brother passed when I was a teen and my mother actually became very interested in cars. Nothing was better than seeing a fifty year old woman rambling on about the specifications of a Dodge." they shared a small laugh. Just then, the door to the shop opened, and a silver haired man walked in. Matthew felt his heart begin to pound as he straightened himself and waited for Gilbert to look up from his phone.

"Hallo, Chelle. Anything to sort-" the albino looked up and his piercing red orbs met Matthew's violet ones. ".. Today.. I.. Uh.. Are..?" the German stuttered, squinting slightly. The Canadian swallowed and stuck out his hand.

"Hey, Gilbert. Been awhile." Gil looked at his hand, then back up to his face. He tightened his grip on his phone, pushing both his hands in his pockets.

"Ja. Ja, it has been."

"Oh, do you know Matthew?" Chelle asked, not noticing the tense aura. Matthew put his hand back to his side, shifting his eyes away from the albino.

"I used to, ja." Gilbert mumbled, pulling his backpack higher up on his shoulder. "I'm just gonna go to the sorting room." it was quiet as the silver haired man's footsteps pounded into the backroom. Chelle smiled and clasped her hands in front of her.

"Well, that's my cue to head home. Feel free to stay if you'd like, Matthew, but town tends to be dead after seven." the blond nodded.

"Yeah, I think I'll head out too. Thank you for this opportunity." the woman waved her hand, heading out the door with the man following behind.

"Oh, dear, it's nothing. I knew you'd be a good fit. Goodnight, Gil!" only silence answered as the two left, the clink of metal against metal signaling the beginning of another new challenge.

Matthew got back home just as Francis had finished preparing dinner. He peeked out of the kitchen and smiled at his son.

"Ah, mon fils. How was it?" the blond nodded, walking into the kitchen to help set the table.

"It was good. I'll go back in the morning and be at the store all day."

"Bon, sounds good." Matthew focused on a fork, straightening it.

"Uhm.. I.. I work with Gilbert." he brought up. Francis carried on doing his work.

"Oh? Good thing you know each other. Makes it less awkward." he called for the other two house members to eat and sat down, looking up at his son. Matthew avoided his look, sitting down. "This is bothering you, though." the blond shrugged as Arthur and Peter walked into the room. Francis smiled at them and they all sat, enjoying their dinner together. Matthew was beginning to feel more anxious about his work, so he only managed to move his food around a little.

"Dinner was great, papa, thank you. I have a big test on Wednesday, though, so I'm gonna go study instead of cleaning up. Is that alright, dad?" Arthur nodded and smiled at the Canadian.

"Matthew and I can do it, right?" the blond looked up and smiled lightly.

"Oh, yeah, sure. No problem." he got up with the others and helped Arthur pick up the plates and move them to the counter.

"How about I put the leftovers away and you put the plates into the dishwasher?" Matthew nodded, beginning to rinse off the plates.

"Sounds good.." it was quiet for a few moments.

"First day go okay?" the blond nodded, mumbling a yes. "Are you sure? Something seems to be bothering you, Matthew." he bit his lip and looked at Arthur.

"Did you ever feel.. I dunno, caught between an ideal and reality?" the Brit looked over him.

"I'm not sure what you mean." Matthew shook his head.

"It's just.. Gilbert works at the store."

"I know." the blond turned to face Arthur.

"You know?" the British man shrugged.

"Well, yes. Your father knows too."

"What?" Matthew sighed and held his head, leaning against the counter. "Of course he knew. This is so typical of him." the Canadian turned and hurried through the dishes, annoyance in every action.

"I'm sure he thought you'd be fine with it, dear." the blond shook his head.

"No, I told him earlier and he acted surprised. He's trying to set us up." Matthew shut the dishwasher and poked the start button. "Well, it's not going to work. Goodnight, Arthur." the shorter man watched the blond storm out of the kitchen.

"Goodnight, Matthew.."

* * *

The next morning, Matthew put his laptop in his backpack and wandered down to the store. Chelle was a teacher at the elementary school, so she didn't typically open during the day. With the Canadian being here, however, she saw the opportunity to be more available to the public. Matthew's job was to sit in the store and collect donations, exchange items, and occasionally sell something until Gilbert came in. Chelle told him that the only people who came in were older women and drama kids looking for costumes and props, so he could do his online classes at the shop.

Matthew spent most of his time at the shop trudging through his school work. A man walked in a little before six. Matthew looked up and closed his laptop, smiling.

"Hello, sir." the man smiled back, coming up to the counter.

"Hello. I have something I'm interested in selling." he put a camera bag on the counter. "I know these are normally pretty pricey, but I'll settle for twenty." the Canadian nodded.

"That's very kind. Mind if I take a look at it? I used to be really into photography." the man pulled the camera out of the bag and Matthew picked it up, examining it. He felt a little excited, holding a camera again. He'd have to come back and buy it after it was priced. "You really only want twenty for this?" the man smiled and shrugged.

"I don't necessarily need the money, but I didn't think donating it would do it much justice either." the Canadian nodded and opened the register, handing the man a twenty.

"Thank you for bringing this by. Have a good day!"

"You too!" Matthew looked at the camera in his hands. Maybe he could test it out around the shop. He got up and walked around, finding old toys and antiques to capture. The blond felt at peace. He smiled and turned the camera to himself, taking a goofy selfie. The picture made him giggle a little.

Matthew looked up as the door opened. Gilbert looked back at him and nodded lightly. The Canadian smiled back and held up the camera.

"Say cheese." the German held his hand over his face as the flash went off.

"I don't do pictures. Stop messing around on the clock." Matthew nodded and turned the camera off, putting it back in the bag.

"A guy brought this in. He only wanted twenty, but it's worth fifty at the very least." Gilbert nodded and picked up the bag.

"I'll do some research and price it up, then." Matthew put his laptop back in his bag and hiked it up on his shoulder.

"Yeah.. Uhm.. I'll see you tomorrow, then." the only thing that answered was the backroom door closing. The Canadian sighed and turned the store sign to "closed", leaving in silence.

The least Gilbert could do was pretend to be civil. Matthew was trying, why couldn't he? "This is stupid.. I didn't want to work with him." he grumbled.

Matthew walked into the house a few minutes later, going straight to his room. His father was already there, sitting on his bed. He smiled at his son.

"Bonjour." Matthew sighed and dropped his bag by the door.

"Can I be alone?" Francis shook his head.

"Non, I want to talk to you about this Gilbert situation." he patted the bed next to him. Matthew crossed his arms.

"Yes, why don't we talk about 'this Gilbert situation'?" the French man looked at him, perplexed.

"Why are you mad?" the blond shook his head.

"Don't act like that. You knew Gilbert worked for Chelle." Francis looked over his son.

".. Oui, I did. Is there something wrong with that?" the blond could feel himself getting more and more annoyed.

"We're not going to hook up." his father stood.

" _Matthew, you don't understand_." the man gritted his teeth. Anytime Francis spoke French, it meant he wanted whatever was being talked about to be private. Matthew refused to play by that rule, though.

"I completely understand. He hates me, okay? And I feel like you're trying to punish me by letting this happen." the older man frowned.

"I don't want you to be hurt. You two were just made for each other." the blond rolled his eyes and left his room.

"Yeah, whatever." Francis followed him downstairs.

"Where are you going?" Matthew clenched his hands.

"Anywhere but here." Arthur and Peter watched the duo from the living room, staying silent.

" _Matthew, do not leave this house_!" the French man yelled. The Canadian looked at him and opened the door, walking out as it slammed behind him.


	4. Revelations

**This chapter contains drug usage and sexual implications. If that offends you, then I'd advise you to skip to the chapter break. Thank you!**

Half an hour later, Matthew found himself at the bar. He took a seat at the bar and the bartender glanced over at him. The blond handed his ID over as he looked over the bottles in the back.

"What can I get you?" the bartender said, handing the ID back.

"Whiskey on the rocks for now." the woman nodded and filled a glass in front of the Canadian, turning back to the people she was talking to. Matthew took a sip, rubbing his head slowly.

What a mess. How had he been so naive? It was stupid to think that coming home would solve all his problems. He could have been partying with Feliks right now, forgetting his own name. Instead he was stuck in some stupid small town bar, wishing he wasn't so stupid.

Matthew took out his phone, ignoring the ten missed calls and multiple texts from his father and called Feliks.

"Mattie! How are you?" the blond smiled at his voice.

"I'm surprised you answered." Feliks giggled in response.

"We decided to, like, have a night in. Seriously, though, how are you? It feels like years since we last talked!" the blond bit his lip.

"I'm doing great, man. Got a job, started classes. Just missed you, is all." his best friend laughed.

"We totally miss you too, Mattie. But you're making your life better and we're, like, super happy for you!" Matthew looked into his glass, smiling lightly.

"Thanks.. I'm gonna go, Feliks. Have a good night."

"You too!" they hung up and the Canadian sighed, feeling worse than before. He downed the rest of the whiskey and called the bartender over, ordering three shots of tequila. All he wanted to do was black out. As he took the first shot, a man came up next to him. He had dreads tied into a messy bun that complimented him nicely. A Hawaiian shirt covered his chest.

"Hey." Matthew looked over at him and took the second shot.

"Can I help you?" the man smiled.

"You looked like you needed a friend. I'm Carlos." the Canadian chuckled.

"Well, Carlos, unless you have something stronger than alcohol or you're interested in men, I don't need a friend." the man put his hand on Matthew's inner thigh.

"Why not both?" the blond looked at him and smiled.

"Got a car, Carlos?" the man nodded and Matthew downed his last shot. He left his money on the counter and followed Carlos outside and around the back to a black SUV. The Cuban pushed Matthew against the car, kissing him deeply. The blond kissed back eagerly, gripping his shirt. He normally had a new partner every other day. It was weird to be alone since he came home. This was just his element. Sex was like a third language to Matthew.

Carlos pulled back, keeping his arms on either side of him.

"What's your poison?" the Canadian looked back, holding the man's arms.

"Got any lines?" the Cuban smiled and pulled back, opening the back door.

"Let's make some." they got in the car and Carlos pulled up the floor mat, taking out a toolbox from a compartment. From within, he pulled out a small bag of cocaine. He put the box back and pulled Matthew over to him, pulling off his shirt and laying him down on the seat. The blond bit his lip and stayed still as the man put some of the powder on his stomach and formed it into a line before snorting it off of his skin. Carlos shook his head and exhaled sharply, licking up Matthew's body. The Canadian let out a soft sound and took the bag from him, gathering some powder on his fingertip and snorting it. The Cuban chuckled and gave him a bit more space.

"Here, baby, sit up and get yourself a proper hit." Matthew giggled and sat up, leaning over the console.

"Mm, aren't you a gentleman.." he lined up some powder and snorted it again, shaking his head. "Shit, this is good.." the blond sat back and kissed Carlos hungrily, pulling him back on top. The man pulled off his pants and undid his own, pulling a condom out. He paused for a minute to slip it on and went back to kissing the Canadian, moving down to suckle on his neck. Matthew leaned his head back, letting out pleasured moans and taking in all of the feelings he was experiencing. Carlos pressed against him, making the Canadian arch slightly.

Suddenly, the door behind Carlos opened and the Cuban was pulled out of the car. Matthew sat up, covering himself with his shirt.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Carlos yelled. The Canadian crawled to the other side, seeing Gilbert standing over the man.

"Me? What about you?!" the German yelled back. He looked at Matthew and scowled. "Get dressed. Now." the blond blushed and swallowed, doing as the albino said. He got out of the car when he was fully clothed, holding onto the door for stability. Between the coke and the booze, the world was starting to spin beneath Matthew's feet.

"Hey, he owes me." Carlos said, standing. Gilbert sighed and took out his wallet, shoving a handful of singles into the Cuban's hands.

"It couldn't have been that much. I never want to see you near him again." the silver haired man grabbed Matthew's arm, pulling him along. The sudden jerk made the blond nauseous instantly.

"H-Hey, Gil, wait!"

"Are you kidding me? Nein, your vater is worried sick and-" Matthew pulled away sharply, doubling over as he threw up. He felt the man pull back his hair as he heaved again. Gilbert sighed softly. "Feel better?" the Canadian wiped his mouth on his sleeve, standing up straight.

"Not at all.. Please take me home.." they silently walked to the car together, Gil helping Matthew into the passenger seat. The blond leaned against the cool window and closed his eyes. The other man got in and started the car, pulling away slowly. It was silent for a few minutes.

"So, what all did you do tonight?" Gilbert asked softly.

"Hm.. I drank some whiskey, three shots of tequila, and a line of coke.." the German made an annoyed sound.

"When did you get so destructive?" the Canadian was quiet and Gilbert took a breath as if to say something else, but stayed quiet. They both seemed to replay memories of the two sharing joints in the German's basement, giggling and trying to attempt smoke tricks. It was silent the rest of the way to Matthew's house. When they pulled up, Gil got out and helped the blond up to the door, walking him inside.

Francis and Arthur were waiting by the door.

"Matthew!" the French man hugged his son tightly. " _I'm sorry, Mathieu, I'm so sorry_." he looked up at Gilbert. "Thank you so much for bringing him home."

"Ja. He got a little.. Rough, so it'd be best to put him to bed." Arthur walked up to him and accompanied the German outside while Francis took Matthew up to his room. His father put him in bed and sat on the edge, brushing his hair back.

The blond felt ashamed of how he had acted earlier. He looked up at his father, but stayed silent. So many things had happened in the past three years. He couldn't spend the rest of his life apologizing. This was one time when he would just have to accept the consequences of his actions.

".. Papa?"

"Oui?"

"I might get sick later.. Could you bring me a bucket or bag or something?" the man nodded and got up, leaving his son. By the time he returned, Matthew had fallen fast asleep.

* * *

A week had passed after Matthew had gone out. He spent his days mostly keeping to himself as he studied and worked at the store. He and Gilbert hadn't so much as looked at each other since that night. That was fine for Matthew, though. He really didn't want any sort of distraction while he kept trying to reach his goals.

It was Friday evening. Matthew found himself at the store like always. He looked through the shelves of the store thoroughly, letting out a frustrated groan after he finished.

"It's been a week. How hard is it to price a camera?" he grumbled. The blond walked back to the counter and looked at the door to the back room. He'd never been back there. It was like Gilbert's personal work space. The Canadian checked the time and bit his lip. It was a quarter to six. He either had fifteen minutes, or an entire hour. Maybe just a peek? Just to see how close the camera was to being priced. Matthew looked around the shop slowly, then quickly jumped into the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

It was actually decently sized. The blond had expected a tiny, messy room. Instead, it was the size of a typical room, with a desk in the corner. A bulletin board hung above it, covered with various notes, papers, and pictures. A large bin was in the corner, labeled "trash". Within the bin were various broken items like toys, antiques, and trashy clothes. There were three medium bins next to it, sorted into toys, antiques, and clothes also.

Matthew looked around the room and spotted the camera bag hanging on the back of the chair at the desk. He smiled and went over, picking it up. The blond looked up at the bulletin board and paused.

Pinned in the corner of the board was the selfie he had taken. Why? Didn't Gil hate Matthew? The Canadian lifted up a paper, revealing an old picture of the two at their senior prom together. Matthew smiled as he remembered that night. Their theme had been a masquerade. Gilbert had a mask modeled after a hawk and Matthew had been a bear. The blond giggled, remembering how the albino had pecked him with his beak and made stupid puns all night. They had also shared their first time that night. Wrapped in the plush sheets of a fancy hotel, they'd brought their relationship its peak before graduation. Before Matthew left.

"What are you doing in here?" the Canadian whipped around, freezing as he saw Gilbert.

"I.. Uh.. Just.." the German looked at the pictures behind him, then the camera bag in the Canadian's hands.

".. You want the camera. Take it. Pay Chelle, though." the albino walked past him and sat at the desk. Matthew looked at him and bit his lip.

"Gilbert.."

"What?" the silver haired man snapped, looking up at the Canadian. The blond took a shaky breath and gripped the camera tighter.

"I.. I didn't want to break up with you." the man looked up at him and his red eyes seemed to pierce straight through him.

"Oh really?" the German stood. "You didn't want to break up with me? You didn't want to prance across the country? You didn't want to get drunk and high and fuck every guy that crossed your line of sight?" he prodded the Canadian's chest. "You wanted to. You wanted to watch me suffer. You wanted to rub your fabulous lifestyle in my face while I struggled here by myself." Matthew felt himself tearing up.

"You don't understand how I felt! No one ever noticed me. I had you and Feliks. Everyone else never even knew I existed!" the German grit his teeth, clenching his fists.

"I should have been enough! But nein! I never was! Nothing will ever be enough for a slut like you!" Matthew reeled back and smacked Gilbert as hard as he could. It was silent.

The Canadian dropped the camera and ran out of the shop. Why had he done that? Why did Gilbert's opinion even matter? It didn't. It never did. No matter how much he tried to tell himself, though, he knew it just wasn't true. He cared a lot about what Gil thought about him and right now, he thought Matthew was a slut. He wasn't, though. Yes, he loved sex. He had multiple partners, but he was safe. He never cheated on anyone. He was essentially a good person. Sex wasn't bad.

The blond walked home, heading straight to his room and locking the door. He had left his backpack at the store, but he'd have to deal with it for tonight. He took out his phone and called Feliks, rubbing his eyes.

"Mattie, baby! It's been forever!" the blond sniffled.

"H-Hey, Feliks.."

"Uh oh. What's wrong, honey?" Matthew wiped his eyes.

"D-do you think that maybe you can come home tonight..? I'd really just like to meet up with you.." there was soft discussion on the other end.

"Yeah, sure, Mattie. I'm like two towns away, okay? I'll pick up some drinks and we'll just hang in your room like when we were kids." the blond nodded.

"That sounds great.. Thank you.. I'll leave my window open.." they hung up and Matthew went over, opening the window. He sat next to it and hugged his knees. Everything felt so crappy. It was just like he was in high school again, begging for something to change. It all seemed so pointless. Matthew stood and walked over to his old stereo, putting multiple pop punk CDs into the slots. Times like this, he was thankful for being an emotional angsty teen. Music like this really made him feel better. The blond laid on his bed and waited, closing his eyes. It wasn't long before Matthew heard someone climbing the tree outside his window.

"It's about time.. I hope you got tequila, because I want nothing more than to pass out."

"I didn't know I was supposed to bring drinks." Matthew snapped up and looked at Gilbert, who was sitting on his window sill. "Been awhile since I've been in here. Hasn't changed much. Or, at all." the blond scowled.

"What do you want?" the albino sighed and stepped into the room, pulling the Canadian's backpack off his back.

"You left this." the blond took it and set it on his bed, staring at Gil.

"Yeah, okay." they were quiet. ".. You can go now." the German sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Look, Matthew, I'm sorry. I was angry and emotional and I said things I didn't mean." the Canadian rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm sure you totally don't think I'm a slut." the albino clenched his fists lightly.

"Why can't you just accept an apology?"

"Because you don't mean it, do you?" Gilbert shook his head, looking away.

"You don't understand anything." Matthew stepped back into his line of sight, pointing to himself.

"Oh, I'm the one that doesn't understand?"

"Ja!" the Canadian crossed his arms.

"I understand that you hate me, and that's enough." Gilbert gave him a confused look.

"Was? I don't hate you."

"You totally do. No one has hated me as much as you do." he stepped closer to Matthew.

"Matthew, I don't-" the Canadian put his hand up to push him back, speaking over Gil.

"Stop lying to-" the blond was cut off as Gilbert caught his hand, pulling him against his chest and kissing him. His eyes widened and he pushed the man back. The silver haired man looked at him, then let go. His pale cheeks turned red as he avoided the blond's eyes.

"I.. I'm sorry.." Matthew shook his head, walking over to his door and unlocking it before pulling it open.

"Just.. Get out.." Gilbert looked at him silently, then nodded and left. The Canadian shut the door and put his back against it, sliding down to sit on the floor. He held his head in his hands, staring at the floor.

".. That was tense." Matthew snapped his head back up, seeing Feliks at his window this time.

"Fuck, you scared me.. Come in." the Polish man crawled in with a bag on his arm, shutting the window behind him. He walked over to Matthew and handed him the bag, sitting next to him. The blond pulled out a bottle of whiskey and shrugged, laying his head on his best friend's shoulder. Feliks put his arm around his shoulders and squeezed him lightly.

"What's been going on, Mattie?" Matthew groaned and opened the bottle, taking a deep drink. He shook his head and looked at Feliks.

"So much bullshit.." over the next twenty minutes, the Canadian filled in all the experiences he had dealt with since coming home. "... And the worst part is, I don't even know what I want." he finished, looking at the wall. Feliks nodded thoughtfully, taking the bottle and drinking a bit.

"This does sound like quite the predicament." Matthew sighed and shook his head.

"What am I supposed to do?" the Polish man smiled and stood up.

"Remember when, like, I broke up with that guy in high school and we totally shredded pictures of him?" the Canadian looked up at him.

"Yeah..?" Feliks walked around the room, taking a picture off the wall.

"Well, why don't we do the same with you guys?" Matthew stood up and bit his lip.

"I dunno, Feliks, that doesn't sound very great.." the Polish man rolled his eyes and put a picture in his hands. It was the first one he had noticed when he came home. A blurry shot of Gilbert, reaching for the camera with a playful glint in his piercing red eyes.

"C'mon, just try it!" Matthew shook his head.

"Feliks.." the man grabbed his hands and pulled, tearing the picture. The blond stood, shocked, and stared at the torn picture. It was just a picture, but it hurt. Why?

What a stupid question. He knew why. He knew the day he came home and saw this picture on the wall. He knew when he felt his chest tighten. The day he reunited with Gilbert and felt the pain of being shunned, he knew how he felt. A tear slipped and fell onto the photo.

Feliks put his hands on Matthew's face and made him look up. He smiled softly.

"Do you understand now?" the blond nodded and hugged his best friend tightly. He rubbed the Canadian's back and pulled back after a bit. "Let's get you some tape and go to bed, huh?" Matthew nodded and picked up the bottle of whiskey again. He looked at it and took another deep drink. Feliks went to the desk and rifled through the drawers. He came back and traded objects with the other man. The Canadian sat on his bed and taped the picture back together carefully. He set it on his nightstand and laid in bed. His best friend clicked off the light and laid next to him.

"Thanks for being here, Feliks.." the blond grabbed his hand, squeezing it sincerely. The Polish man giggled and squeezed back.

"Anything to help you, Mattie.. Night.." Matthew made a small sound of acknowledgement and the two slipped into a satisfied sleep.


	5. Old Habits Die Hard

The next morning, Matthew woke up to an empty bed and a pounding head. Between the tears, the emotions, and the bit he had to drink, his body had been under an unusual amount of stress last night. He groaned and held his head, sitting up. The smell of pancakes was drifting into his room through his open door. The blond stumbled downstairs and into the kitchen, where his father, Arthur, Peter, and Feliks were. The Polish man looked up as he walked in and smiled.

"You didn't tell me you got a family." Matthew smiled shyly, getting a glass of water.

"I didn't tell you a lot of things. Kind of how I work." Feliks laughed and the blond sat next to him at the table.

"That's true.."

"Good morning, mon fils." Francis said, kissing his son on his head as he set a plate of pancakes in front of him. "Feliks told me you guys drank last night, so I made your favorite." Matthew smiled.

"Merci, papa." the French man nodded and hand delivered plates to everyone else before sitting at the table.

"Isn't this nice?" Arthur said, passing around toppings to the other table mates.

"Honestly, I totally feel like I'm back in high school and need to, like, raise my hand or something." Feliks commented. Peter rolled his eyes.

"My dad always makes people feel like that. Even I feel like I have to call him 'mister', and I'm not even in high school yet." Matthew chuckled.

"I did it for the first week I was here, but it got better." Francis cleared his throat and smiled at the people around the table.

"Before we get too busy eating, I'd like to propose a toast to family. And yes, that includes you, Feliks." they raised their glasses and Feliks laughed lightly.

"Thanks, dad. I'm happy to know both of us can drop off the grid for three years and still come back to a place called home. Especially since my parents went back to my childhood house." Francis nodded.

"You're always welcome here." they all began to eat.

"What the- oh.. Oh my.." the table turned their attention to Arthur, who was cutting into his pancakes. He set his utensils down and pulled a ring off of his plate. The Brit looked up at his boyfriend. "Is.. Is this..?" Feliks squealed and covered his mouth and Matthew smiled proudly. Peter looked ecstatically between the two. The French man smiled softly.

"Oui." Francis got up and walked over to him, taking the ring from his fingers and getting down on a knee. "Mon cher, these past two years have been amazing.. I love you and Peter so much. Matthew and I have discussed it and we both would love to make both of you an official part of our family." Arthur looked at his boyfriend silently, covering his mouth with a hand and extending the proper one. Tears welled in his big emerald eyes and overflowed as the French man slipped the ring on his finger.

"Bl-bloody frog, making me cry in front of everyone.." They shared a tight hug and buried their faces in each other's necks, laughing and sharing happy tears.

"Je t'aime, je t'aime.." Francis muttered.

"I love you too.."

"This is, like, the cutest thing I've ever seen. I might cry too." Feliks said with a smile, wiping his eyes. Matthew chuckled and reached a palm across the table to Peter.

"Hi-five, brother." the teen smiled brightly and hit the offered palm.

"Hi-five, bro!" despite the few interactions the two had already had, the Canadian felt like they had bonded in that moment. Like Peter had come to completely accept him just like that.

Francis pulled back and kissed Arthur before settling back into his chair.

"I'm so happy you could all be here for this moment. Feliks, you're also welcome to the wedding, of course." the Polish man nodded excitedly.

"That's perfect. I'd totally love for you to meet Tori, too! He's, like, such a great guy!" Arthur nodded as he wiped his eyes with his napkin.

"Yes, Matthew told us you met a nice man. How did you meet?" the Canadian blushed and Feliks giggled lightly.

"It was just a, like, total coincidence, y'know?" a coincidence that their normal dealer had been busy and sent a lackey instead, that is. After that, Feliks had made sure to contact their regular guy at inconvenient times just so he could get in a bit of flirting in with the Lithuanian man. Eventually, it paid off as Feliks had finally gotten the courage to ask him out. They'd been inseparable ever since. The Polish man looked at Matthew, then back to the family.

"This isn't my moment, though. I'm super excited for you two! When were you thinking of getting this done? Oh my gosh, do you have a planner? Can I do it?!" the Canadian man looked around the table as everyone began chattering excitedly. It was so weird think that this could end up being his everyday life. Fear squeezed his heart for an instant. Did he travel enough? Had he really seen enough excitement to hold him off for the rest of his life? His stomach was starting to twist around as he thought of living in his hometown as a permanent solution.

"Doesn't that sound good?" Matt looked up as Feliks asked him a question.

"Ah.. Sorry, I wasn't paying attention. Daydreaming, y'know." Feliks laughed and rolled his eyes.

"He's always off in his own world. Impossible to hold a real conversation." the Canadian smiled weakly and stood.

"I'm going to head to the shop now, okay? I'll be home later." Francis watched him stand and nodded lightly.

"Sounds great, mon fils. Have a great day." the other men wished Matthew the same before the blond ran upstairs to grab his backpack. He paused and looked around the room slowly before he grabbed an extra set of clothes and tossed them into the bag with his other things. He then walked back out the door, calling an unknown farewell to his family.

Matthew hiked up his backpack and sighed before walking to the store. He went in and immediately opened the register, putting fifty dollars in the drawer. He went to the sorting room, only to find the camera bag hanging on the handle. The blond picked it up and bit his lip, trying the door. It held fast.

"Locked.. Gil.. If.. If you're in there, I.." the man trailed off. It was only nine or ten in the morning. Gilbert wouldn't be in until later. Matthew looked around the store and sighed, leaning against the door. "You're not. I know I'm alone. And that's just how it should be." he said aloud to himself. "I'm not.. Ready. For this. This monotonous routine. I didn't think Feliks was either, but he hasn't been out since I came home. He fits the role of housewife so well." the blond shook his head and leaned his head back against the door.  
"And my father.. I used to think that no matter what, he would be here.. But he's not. He's become so happy with just Peter and Arthur. There's just.. No room for me anywhere." he smiled softly and closed his eyes. "Last night.. With the kiss.. I was so scared of hurting you. Hurting myself. I still.. I still.." the blond shook his head and stood straight, covering his eyes as a sob tried to work it's way through his body. "I'm not built for love, but I love you. I love you so much and I can't stand it." Matthew's voice broke and he cleared his throat, rubbing his eyes lightly.  
"Look, I.. I know you're not here, but.. I'm leaving again. No one knows. They all think I'm coming home after work, but.. I guess.. I don't know. I.." he sighed and shook his head before hooking the camera bag onto his backpack. "Thanks for the camera. I'll use it well. Maybe I'll actually remember this trip." he walked to the shop's front door and paused, standing with his hands on the bar. "I don't believe in God.. But I pray that something will stop me before I never come back." the silence of dust settling in the shop answered him. Matthew smiled bitterly as a tear slipped past his lids. "I thought so.."

And he left. Down the street, straight to the edge of town. Tears beat at the back of his eyes, but he refused to let them slip as he tied his shoulder length hair into a low ponytail. It was time for him to fall into his old routine so he could hopefully hitch hike as far from this place as he could manage. He began walking down the road, holding the straps of his bag. Thoughts of where to go flitted through his brain, but none of them stuck. He felt empty, like the day he had returned.

The sound of tires on pavement pulled him out of his thoughts. He turned to face a black El Camino and smiled as he stuck out his thumb. The last time he had seen an El Camino, an incredible stud had been driving it and let's just say the car wasn't the only thing Matt took a ride on..

The car slowed down and pulled over a bit away from Matt. The blond began walking towards it and the driver got out, putting his hand on the roof. Matthew stopped in his tracks, seeing Gilbert breathing heavily.

"What are you-"

"I was there." the albino said. He shut the door and walked towards Matt. "I heard it all." the blond stayed quiet and Gil stopped an arm's length away from him. "I was going to let you go, but.. Your dad called too. And he knew. And I was fine with you leaving me again, but you can't leave them again. You can't."

The Canadian looked into his eyes and chuckled lightly.

"Of course it doesn't matter what I said.. Since when do you care about the way others feel?"

"Ever since you stopped." silence pierced the air between them as Gilbert snapped out his reply, staring Matthew down. The blond man stared back, but really he was looking through him as he processed the reply. Gil was right. He no longer took his friend's or family's feelings into account. He willfully did what he wanted because he thought he knew how they felt.

It had all started when he had left. Watery violet eyes met bold red ones as Matt whispered out the question.

"We were really popular in high school, weren't we?" Gil nodded.

"Captain of the rugby team and president of student council? Of course we were. I was so baffled when you said no one noticed you. I fought off like three people for the right to be your boyfriend, you know that?" high school memories flashed through Matthew's mind. Endless people talking to him in the halls, after class. Anywhere he went in town, really. The hang outs he was always invited to. The endless date invites to every dance and school social. Why had he forgotten all of that? How?

Matt pushed himself forward, hugging Gil tightly.

"Why.. How did I feel so alone?" Gilbert hugged back tightly as Matt buried his face in the man's neck.

"I don't know.. I.. I'll do whatever you need to make sure you never feel like that again, so.. Bitte.." they separated a bit while Gil looked at him. "Don't leave me alone again. Don't let me walk around and face everyone's sympathetic looks and sad head shakes. I felt like a widower, y'know? I can't stand people pitying me." Matt smiled lightly and put his hand on the albino's pale cheek.

"There's the selfish Gil I know." Gilbert smiled lightly and Matthew's hand slid around to the back of his neck so he could pull the man in for a soft kiss. Gil kissed back, pulling the blond securely against him. They parted and shared a small smile.

"What was that you were saying at the store?" Matthew's face flushed as he pushed him away.

"Oh, shut up!" they both laughed and Gil took his boyfriend's backpack before leading him back to the car.


End file.
